


The Unfortunate Incident

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Ship Kink, basically Thomas boards James's vessel, fearturing everyone's least favorite Black Sails accessory: the wig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did a quick look-up and "Ostrea" is latin for oyster. I was thinking of Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carptenter" (where the Walrus eats the oysters) and thought it was funny that James would serve on an "Oyster" before the Walrus. ;p Sorry, I'm a nerd.</p></blockquote>





	The Unfortunate Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Char7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Char7/gifts).



For Char7. Your suggestion on tumblr just stuck with me I guess. :)))

\----------

“Well here she is. The HMS Ostrea*, third ship-of-the-line.”

James stepped aside as Thomas boarded the massive ship. He scarcely watched his step as his head tipped back to take in the width and breadth of it all. James saw the wonder in his eyes and smiled.

“She’s amazing,” said Thomas, straining his neck to see the tops of the masts. “And you’ll be serving on it, erm, her, next week?”

James chuckled at his awkward use of the feminine pronoun. He wanted to make a jest of it, but he was all too aware of the scattered crew members around them so instead he said, “Yes, my lord, and it’s all right, you don’t have to call it a ‘her’ if you don’t wish to.”

Thomas’s mouth ticked up in a crooked grin. “I’ll work on it. Care to give me a tour, lieutenant?” he asked. Thomas’s eyes swept James’s form up and down in that brazen way that always gave his stomach butterflies.

“Of course, my lord,” said James, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Their relationship was still in its adolescence; they’d kissed and explored one another’s nether regions with their mouths, which James absolutely loved. He had come to know Thomas’s hands and lips intimately, but they had yet to find an opportune moment to further explore their physical attraction—nor had either one of them mentioned it.

James was eager but cautious about it. He was used to this progression with men before, but he was already forced to admit to himself that he cared deeply about Thomas and couldn’t help but wonder how much Thomas cared for him.

James showed him around the HMS Ostrea, or rather advertised it to Thomas. Once he got started on speaking about the ship’s dimensions and her weight and how many crew and guns and supplies she held, he had to remind himself that Thomas was not, in fact, of the navy.

“It’s all right, James,” Thomas said when James apologized. “I enjoy your enthusiasm.”

As soon as Thomas used his given name James hissed between his teeth, eyes darting around them as they stood next to the long spokes of the capstan. Thomas looked around them innocently, hands still held behind his back.

“I see no one,” he said with mock surprise.

James relaxed grudgingly with a long sigh.

“It’s always best to be cautious,” he said.

“Hmm. Not always,” said Thomas, sly like a snake.

James took his meaning immediately and considered. It was mid-evening, and as they had been touring the ship most of the remaining crew and dock workers had left. They travelled back up to the quarterdeck and James greeted the night watchman as he began his shift.

“The night watchman is the only other man on board,” he said lowly to Thomas’s ear. “He’ll patrol around the ship, but he’ll stay out of any rooms unless he has reason to search them.”

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” Thomas asked, eyes sparkling.

James took his hand and led him down two levels of stairs and into a room.

“This is the master’s cabin, just below the captain’s cabin,” he said. “Not all ships are equipped with one, only the largest—”

His monologue was cut off by a pair of moist lips pressed over his own. He hummed into them. Thomas pulled back with a light smacking sound.

“You are quite adorable when you’re so enthusiastic,” he mused.

“I can get even more enthusiastic over other things,” growled James, hooking Thomas by the waist and pulling him close. They kissed again. James opened his mouth to let Thomas’s tongue slide over his own, his hand gripping into James’s black hair ribbon and scraping his scalp. He took off his tricorne hat and let it drop, then did the same to Thomas’s hat and wig. He tossed the white wig to the floor.

“And enough of that damn thing,” he mumbled. Thomas snorted softly into his neck.

“When you’re old you’ll have to wear one,” he teased, sliding his hands inside James’s coat.

“Over my dead body,” said James.

He held Thomas close, their mouths dancing over one another and finding a familiar groove. James jerked out Thomas’s cravat and let his hands find the other man’s chest, thumbs rolling over his nipples. Thomas hiked James’s well-tucked in white linens out of his belt and James moaned when large, warm hands squeezed at his bare flesh.

James would have considered the day a success right then and there, happily going home to his flat later that evening. But then Thomas grinded his hips into James so that his body touched James’s everywhere it could. James responded in kind, feeling his heart beat faster. They hadn’t gone beyond this yet, had always been forced to stop for fear of getting too worked up. Now, however, Thomas seemed to be throwing even that bit of caution to the wind, his crotch smashing against James’s until they were both half-hard.

Thomas grabbed his hair gathered in the ribbon and pulled back on it, tipping James’s head back so he could suck and bite at his neck. An audible moan escaped James’s lips. Thomas breathed hard against him, his other hand suddenly over James’s crotch, rubbing and squeezing at his growing erection.

“Thomas, be careful,” James panted out.

As if to prove the sentiment a point, the night watchman’s heavy boot-steps fell overhead, crossing the deck above. They both stilled but Thomas didn’t remove his hands from their respective places. When the boot-steps faded he immediately started moving again, his palm dipping underneath James’s crotch, fingers stretching out and pushing against his cleft. Sharp jolts of heat rose from James’s gut and his breath stuttered. He raked his hand through Thomas’s hair and pulled. Thomas pushed his face to the other side and sucked on the curve of his neck. James had to lean on the beam against the wall for support as Thomas seemed to have completely taken control of him, his tongue and hand working wonders.

James realized he was thrusting his hip into Thomas’s greedy hand, allowing Thomas to feel his shaft and balls and cleft with each thrust.

It grew ridiculously warm in the cabin.

When Thomas pulled away James’s cock ached at the sight. His own hand had mussed the neat blonde hair. Thomas’s face was flushed, his eyes huge and lidded.

“I want to take you,” he breathed out. “Now.”

James’s heart skipped a beat. The boot-steps came again over them in the same monotonous pattern, then faded again. His good sense might have told him to cease and desist this but James found he could not obey it, not with Thomas’s hand still fondling his erection, and not with the invitation from Thomas’s own lips—lips that had treated him like a piece of candy that could never be consumed.

James gave a quick nod. Thomas’s eyes brightened and he reached out and began pulling at James’s belt buckles. James was quite used to undressing himself, even in these matters, and had never let another man do so before. But now he watched as Thomas eagerly fumbled with his belt, then jerked on his pants until they gave way. He hummed when James’s cock bobbed up, thick and hard.

“Fuck James,” he muttered. It was first time James could recall Lord Hamilton using a profane word. It made him shiver all over.

Thomas spun him around and James braced himself against the wall. He peeked over his shoulder as Thomas dropped down and spread his cheeks. His mind had scarcely registered what Thomas meant to do before Thomas was doing it, his tongue licking and pushing up against his rim. James bit back on the loud moan that wanted to escape him. He turned it into a deep hum instead. Thomas sucked at his hole hard, then wiggled his tongue all around it until James was covered in sweat and panting uncontrollably. Little by little Thomas replaced his tongue with fingers, spreading and widening James until his tongue could fit inside, and James nearly fell apart from the sensation. He could hear his pulse thudding in his ears, his stomach flipping pleasantly and his cock was aching.

“Thomas,” he cried out at last. Everything stopped and he turned around. If Thomas had looked wrecked before…

James took the sides of his face and pulled him into a hard kiss. Thomas shoved his tongue down deep and James tasted himself there. His cock was definitely leaking now. When they broke apart it left a sticky strain coming off of Thomas’s shirt. Thomas ripped at his own belt buckle. The boot-steps came again and Thomas stilled, very slowly unbuckling his belt so that the rattle was barely audible. James’s hands were clenching the fabric of Thomas’s shirt over his arms hard enough to make his fists ache as he watched. The boot-steps disappeared again and Thomas flashed him a mischievous look before jerking his pants down to pool around his ankles.

James whimpered as Thomas’s cock peeked from underneath his shirt, rock-hard and ready and also wet with precum. Yet Thomas didn’t advance. James met his gaze, knowing his own eyes must have looked as black and lidded as Thomas’s were.

“You want this?” Thomas asked, chest heaving slightly.

James nodded. He held Thomas’s eyes and said, “Fuck me.”

He was spun around again. James spread his legs and felt the press of Thomas’s cockhead against his hole. Then everything grew close and hot and he bit his tongue as Thomas pushed in, his hand coming to the small of his back, thumb at the base of his crack. He pushed in a little at a time, until he could slide all the way inside James.

James let out a stuttering noise, forehead sagging against the wooden wall.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned. Thomas had molded himself over James’s back and gave him small kisses here and there—sweet little things, up to the back of his ear.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Thomas whispered, hands roaming all over his back and shoulders. He shifted slightly, moving his cock inside James. James closed his eyes, unable to respond or think or do much of anything besides hum in the back of his throat. He reached behind him and pushed at Thomas’s ass.

Thomas straightened himself and began fucking him at a steady pace. The feel of his cock sliding in and out of him had James pulling at his own cock. Everything seemed to pulsate inside him; his own body was thrumming with energy. The sounds of their joined bodies smacking together didn’t help matters either, nor did it when the smacking grew quicker and more frantic as Thomas sped up, driving his cock deep inside James so that James had to bite down on his arm to keep from moaning loudly. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Thomas wasn’t either. His breathing grew shorter and shorter. James fucked into his hand, rolling his precum over his head. He gritted his teeth as everything rose up from deep within him, fast and hot.

“Thomas,” he panted. “Oh, fuck, I’m…just…”

And he let out a keen as he came. Thomas’s hand clamped down around his mouth. James’s eyes rolled up, his head tipped back, as Thomas’s cock ripped his pleasure out of him. He pulled at his cock until the feeling ebbed, but Thomas was still—holy god—fucking him, his thrusts taking on a short and quick rolling sensation that made James whimper. He realized Thomas was still covering his mouth because he couldn’t seem to stop making noises.

Then he heard a strangled cry behind him and felt the explosion from inside as Thomas followed him over the edge. Thomas let out a slew of half-comprehensible curse words as his climax shattered him. When at last he pulled out James dizzily turned around and Thomas half-collapsed up against him, face buried in the crook of his neck. James tried to speak but couldn’t. He kissed the top of Thomas’s head and rubbed his back, eager to let him know that everything was fine even if he couldn’t voice it yet.

Finally Thomas pushed himself up, his breathing almost normal. Their eyes met softly. James’s fingertips came up to his lips. Thomas kissed him, tenderly this time.

“Good?” he whispered.

“Fantastic,” James replied in a low and raw voice.

Thomas gave him a toothy grin at that.

They cleaned themselves with handkerchiefs and righted their clothes. It took James a minute to locate the whereabouts of his hat in the dimly lit room. He swiped it off the floor and dusted it off. Thomas was still searching for his own accessories on the floor around them.

“Ah here it is,” he said, stooping down to pick up his wig. And then, “Oh shit.”

“What is it?”

Thomas held up the wig with a thumb and forefinger as though it were contaminated.

“It seems there are…love juices…on the inside of it,” he said. James’s brows furrowed, then his face went slack.

“Oh! You mean—”

“Yes, lieutenant, I mean.”

James looked around them.

“Damn. There’s no gunports to throw it out. And we cannot leave it behind.”

“Certainly not,” agreed Thomas. “I don’t imagine there are too many wig-wearing crew members of the Ostrea.”

James frowned. “No. I suppose I can—no, wait,” he said, eyes flashing from the wig to Thomas. “I have an idea.”

***

The night watchman spotted the lord and lieutenant making their way towards him, only they weren’t walking leisurely as before. They looked agitated. He quickly joined them on the quarterdeck.

“…I am very sorry, my lord,” Lieutenant McGraw was saying, trying to keep up with Lord Hamilton’s fast and furious walk.

“It is not *your* fault, lieutenant,” Hamilton replied, throwing the watchman a look.

“What ever is the matter, sirs?” he asked, alarmed.

“An unfortunate incident,” said Thomas, thrusting his wadded up wig at the watchman’s chest. The watchman took hold of it, looking baffled.

“A *very* unfortunate incident, in fact,” Thomas added, sticking his nose up in the air and looking disgusted before he explained.

“The lieutenant was showing me around the master’s cabin when a rat—a rat, I tell you!--jumped down from the hatchway and landed on my wig. It’s ruined now—no, no! Do not open it, I’m afraid there’s rat urine in it.”

The watchman immediately held the wig away from him, pinching it between his fingers exactly as Thomas had below. Beside him James made a snorting noise and pretended to have sneezed.

“I am very sorry, my lord,” said the watchman. “Please understand, though, that it is very hard to get rid of all the vermin on a ship…”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” said Thomas, flitting his hand at the watchman and acting every bit the spoiled and rude snob his birthright called for. It was enough to force James to turn around to hide his smile. He was positively bursting to laugh. He bit the sides of his cheeks and wiped the grin off his face before turning back around.

“….Just toss it over the side,” Thomas was saying. “I don’t even want to look at the damn thing.”

“Please, allow me to escort you off the ship and back to your carriage, my lord,” said James, rushing up to Thomas’s side as the watchman finished tossing the wig over the railing. This time Thomas choked off a snort of laughter. It threatened to undo James as Thomas threaded his arm through the lieutenant’s.

The watchman followed them to the boarding plank, apologizing the entire way but still defending the position of the rats, until at last they had crossed back over to the docks. They kept their composure all the way to the street, where Thomas’s carriage was waiting. As soon as they had both entered it and the doors were shut they both dissolved into peals of snickering and laughter.

“Did you see the way he held it after I said ‘rat urine’?” Thomas asked between laughs.

“Jesus, I wonder if he touched any of it,” said James, laughing anew.

Once they finally calmed down and were on their way they regarded each other in a long but comfortable silence before James reached out and grabbed Thomas’s shirt.

“Come here,” he said.

Already Thomas was crossing the short gap between them, until he was straddling James in the carriage seat.

“You should know,” said James, looking up at him and with his hands firmly around Thomas’s waist, “That your behavior today was highly provocative and lewd. Should I expect these shenanigans to occur on a regular basis, my lord?”

“Mmm. Yes,” cooed Thomas, licking his lips and wiggling himself over James’s lap. “You should, and as my liaison you will be expected to adhere to each and every shenanigan as they happen, without complaint. Can you handle that, Lieutenant McGraw?”

James stared at him through his brows, deciding it was his turn to look at Thomas as though he were candy, and Thomas’s bravado faltered and he whimpered, bending down to kiss him.

“I can handle it,” said James. “And for the record, I love unfortunate incidents.”

***

 

Hope you liked. And for anyone else reading, come visit me on tumbr at iwtv2007. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I did a quick look-up and "Ostrea" is latin for oyster. I was thinking of Lewis Carroll's "The Walrus and the Carptenter" (where the Walrus eats the oysters) and thought it was funny that James would serve on an "Oyster" before the Walrus. ;p Sorry, I'm a nerd.


End file.
